


Silent Yearning

by gukbae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: F/M, Gryffindor Kim Namjoon | Rap Monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gukbae/pseuds/gukbae
Summary: Namjoon, you thought, was all you could have ever asked for. With his endearing smile, thoughtful expression and kind heart, he enchanted you in ways you never thought were possible. You always considered yourself lucky to have him by your side. Whenever you were around him he emanated that sort of peaceful calmness that warmed your insides, just like his smile always did. He brought you safety; you felt secure with him. You would have never given that up or the boy himself if it wasn’t for the constant doubts eating at your brain. That was his problem; he was too good. Not in a sense that he was too good to be true, just too good for you. Inseparably by your side, always ready to give and never take, not expecting anything in return for he’d say your presence solely was enough. You never wanted to give him up. And if having him as a friend was how it was supposed to be then you’d accept it with open arms.





	Silent Yearning

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: In which Kim Namjoon is a Gryffindor prefect in his seventh and last year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the Reader is a sixth-year student in Y/H/H (Your Hogwarts House).
> 
> Reader's Guide:  
> 1) ... indicates a time skip/time lapse depending on the context;  
> 2) text in italics represents a past memory, a thought or a magic spell.

Slipping through the shadows of the night, your only companion being the sound of your robe swishing behind you at your swift movements and the soft tapping of the soles of your shoes against the marble floors, you clutched the few books in your grasp closer to your chest. One particular rebel had decided to act up, making you regret not tightening the old leather belt with which it was encased a notch tighter.

Praying to all the gods above for your little midnight shenanigans to go unnoticed, you hurried down the quiet, dark hall. The school year had barely commenced but you were already swarmed with homework and tests. The common room and the girls‘ dorm proved to both be too loud and occupied for you to be able to effortlessly study with no distractions, so the only safe haven of quietude you could think of was the school’s old library, which was exactly where you were headed right now. It was well after curfew, and Filch and his cat could be anywhere at that moment, but the approaching exams and the fear of not passing them up to your expectations that came with it outweighed the concerns of being caught out.

By fortunate circumstances or sheer luck, you reached the massive wooden doors that entered into the library without being spotted, or at least that was what you thought. Scanning your surroundings to the best of your abilities in the pitch black darkness of the night, you saw no other intruders, so you let yourself sigh in relief and somewhat a sense of victorious satisfaction. You didn’t dare illuminate any big sources of light out of consideration that it may uncover your location. You opted for bringing out your pocketed wand and with a soft whisper of Lumos, the hall wasn’t so dark anymore. Letting your eyes adjust to the newfound light, you made your way to the faraway corners of the library, in hope of concealing yourself among the aisles and shelves of books.

Unbeknown to you, however, a certain boy with hawk-like eyes and quiet steps had seen you sneak through the shadows of the night and had followed you with curiosity.

Only when you had settled down assured that no one was aware you were there did he make his presence known.

“You know, the library is off-limits at these hours. As is everywhere else that is not your common room, for that matter,” he said, accompanying it with a soft chuckle.

His boyish, velvety voice filled the quiet air with almost no hint of scolding or reproach, void of any sternness as he leaned against the rows of bookcases that were opposite of where you were situated.

If you hadn’t known better, you would have been mortified by now, scrambling excuses and fleeing from the scene as quickly as possible. However, you simply looked over your shoulder to soak in his appearance and his presence that somehow didn’t startle you one bit.

There he stood, his lean figure basking in the weak moonlight seeping through a nearby window, his arms crossed over his chest and head tilted slightly downwards so his warm eyes were on the same level with your own.

“Namjoon,”

The Gryffindor boy a year above you, the boy which once was one of the closest people in your life and one that was rightfully elected a prefect only last year, a fact that should have had you scared to be in his presence past curfew, out of the lane you were supposed to be in, yet it didn’t. Because there was more to it than what a simple eye could tell but no mouth present dared to say.

“You know I don’t like to take away house points,” he explained, only bits of hints of accusation detectable in the low timber of his voice. While your face remained impassive, your insides couldn’t help but turn at the way your name left his lips, like it hadn’t in a long time.

“And you know I wouldn’t be out for no reason. I couldn’t study back in there, you know how it gets,” you tried to justify in a weak voice.

“That’s no excuse,” Namjoon shook his head with a small smile.

“Exams are approaching and-“

“And you could’ve simply come to me if you struggled, right? You know I wouldn’t have refused,” he interrupted you, more disappointed in the fact you chose not to seek his help than the fact that you had broken the rules.

How could he blame you when he himself had once initiated you two did so, once upon a time when though for different reasons it still felt the same. Once forgotten thoughts filled his mind. Nostalgic memories of your quiet gasps and the sound of lips smacking as you raked your hands through his hair, fingers trembling due to the gist of adrenaline of being caught that had been sparked in both of you. A rush of excitement keeping you on edge, a feeling dangerously thrilling. Something that was believed to be gone now. But maybe neither it nor the memories were, rather simply pushed to the back of your minds after months of almost no significant closure.

Suddenly there was a tightness in his throat that made it hard to breathe. An almost painful heaviness had settled in his chest, triggered by the involuntary slip of his memory.

“Let me walk you back, it’s getting too late,”

You quietly complied, having no reason not to do so. Either way, you had long learned that Namjoon simply didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer back then, and probably wouldn’t start now in the responsible position he was put in.

But the ghostly feeling of his palm at the small of your back as he quietly rushed you out of the library, guiding you back to the headquarters unnoticed, made old memories resurface that left a bitter taste in your mouth, not one of repulse but one that fearfully resembled quiet yearning for what was long gone.

So when he awkwardly patted your shoulder, something that felt so unnatural and uncharacteristic coming from him after all these months and promised to give you a brief tutoring session, all you could do was nod, too overwhelmed to say or do anything else. And with that promise made, he left you to your own, parting ways at the door of the common room that had now gone quiet.

...

Surprisingly, you did take him up on the offer only a day later, agreeing to meet up to study together. His lessons were, without a doubt, of a big help, considering his excelling grades in almost all of the classes he took and the fact that he was a year ahead of you, had already gone through the material and memorised it. Namjoon was a great tutor and possessed the patience most of your teachers didn’t.

Even while the two of you were still together you had always wondered why he hadn’t been placed in Ravenclaw with his brilliant intelligence, razor sharp mind and great wits. You once questioned him about it and he explained that the Sorting Hat had no qualms or doubts when putting him in Gryffindor but didn’t share any comments the old, spirited hat may have made like it always did on every ceremony of other first years you had attended. You kept quiet and simply nodded as you had no way to know, not yet being present when his ceremony had taken place.

The fond memory of the two of you huddled together on one of the opulent couches in the library with a book about charms covering nearly both of your laps invaded your mind. You still remembered pulling all-nighters in the common room before big tests. Most of the time both your and his major exams' dates overlapped, so you always had the moral support of each other to pull you through the sleepless nights.

Come to think of it, Namjoon has always been there for you. From when you had to endure Snape’s snide remarks to when he had to put Draco in his place when he got too out of hand on you with his teasing, he had always been a supporting shoulder you could lean and depend on. It only doubled your guilt at the thought of how you could never offer the same, of always having to doubt if what you were able to give him was ever enough for him.

...

“Hey,” his voice startled you out of your reverie. “Do you need a break? You’re so out of it today.”

His comment made you shake your head, hoping to ease off his worries that had already visually settled on his face in the form of a concerned frown that marred his eyebrows.

“I’m okay,” you assured. “But I think that was enough for today. Tomorrow is the test and it would be useless trying to cram in anything more,” you said with a forced chuckle, void of humour. God, were you right?! He was simply too good for you.

Stuffing the last of your textbooks in your leather shoulder bag, you stood up, him following your actions as he clutched his books in hand. Patting his shoulder in gratitude you couldn’t help it when the words slipped through your lips, “Thanks for the help, Joon.”

The recognition the simple nickname held once it tumbled out of your mouth left the both of you gazing wordlessly at each other with something similar to longing and it scared you enough to mutter a small excuse and scurry away.

But it kind of slipped out of your mind the next time you saw him, too overwhelmed by the happiness and relief that flooded you for the revise exams were now over. So much so that you let yourself to just embrace him in a tight hug, mumbling ‘thank you’s in the wrinkles of his robe with a gentle smile on your face that, obliviously to you, was mirrored on his face.

_..._

_“Joon!”_

_The shout of his name echoing through the hall had him turning his head in the direction of your voice a split second before you pounced on him, enveloping him in a bear hug from behind as you nuzzled your face in the back of his neck, completely unbothered by the other students that gave the couple of you strange looks._

_You had just completed your O.W.L.s and by the looks of it, you did good, and the boy felt the familiar warmth spread within his chest at the feeling of your arms tightly winded around his form._

_“God, I don’t know what I would have done without you,” you beamed. “Thank you so, so much for tutoring me.”_

_The few students that were lingering in the hall had made themselves scarce and Namjoon took the benefit of the opportunity. Turning around in your arms he smiled fondly at you, gracing you with his trademark dimpled grin that made you heart flutter. Gathering his courage, he swiftly dipped down to place a soft peck on your lips and in that moment, it was enough. No words were needed when the only thing necessary was for you to lean upwards and reciprocate with the tenderness of a kiss that could only be shared in the bloom of one’s first love._

_..._

His only wish in the moment was expressed in the nagging urge to simply tilt your chin upwards and kiss you until you turned breathless. But that wasn’t something he would let himself do. Not when things have changed, not when _you_ have changed.

The you before him wasn’t the girl that stood in your place last year. In the time span of a year, you had changed. The breakup made you realise things you had been blind to, made you more mature than you had ever been in Namjoon’s eyes. Gone was that childish sparkle in your glassy eyes and present was that warm, subtle glow seeping in your otherwise melancholic eyes that came with the grace of coming of age. You were no longer a small girl bursting with frantic and untamed emotions. In front of him was a grownup you with wise eyes and something so alluringly beautiful hidden in the expression of your face that had him basking in the glory that you were. However, the biggest difference would always be that the erstwhile untamed girl was once his lover, but the you that was in her prime no longer was.

Namjoon, you thought, was all you could have ever asked for. With his endearing smile, thoughtful expression and kind heart, he enchanted you in ways you never thought were possible. You always considered yourself lucky to have him by your side. Whenever you were around him he emanated that sort of peaceful calmness that warmed your insides, just like his smile always did. He brought you safety; you felt secure with him. You would have never given that up or the boy himself if it wasn’t for the constant doubts eating at your brain. That was his problem; he was too good. Not in a sense that he was too good to be true, just too good for you. Inseparably by your side, always ready to give and never take, not expecting anything in return for he’d say your presence solely was enough. You never wanted to give him up. And if having him as a friend was how it was supposed to be then you’d accept it with open arms.

...

The months that followed, months that weren’t void of Namjoon no more, had left you in a whirlwind of emotions. That radiating warmth he gave out hadn’t shifted in the least, something you were beyond grateful for, but along with it came memories of better times that brought feelings far from that. The boy was so close yet out of your reach. Like the months of separation had left an invisible bump in your relationship with him, like something broken that could no longer be fixed.

Soon, that time of the year you would usually anticipate with a bubbling excitement, the one holiday you were meant to spend with the ones dear to your heart rolled around. Christmas steadily approached just like how the snow on the window sills gradually piled up. Except, this time there was nothing but dread and silent melancholy filling your heavy chest.

The school halls, the common room, and the dorms quickly became deserted as most of the students headed home for the jolly holidays. You decided to stay behind and spend Christmas in Hogwarts, the holiday spirit never really coming your way.

Staring out of the ceiling-to-floor window in the quiet library, your gaze took in the appearance of the Quidditch field, once lush green grass now covered under layers of pristine white snow which seemed to only continue piling up. The heat of the fireplace nearby was warming your back pleasantly and the soothing crack of the wood filled the quietude of the vast room.

Namjoon found you without any real effort. Limping his way through the heavy oak doors of the library, he inched closer to the window sill you were perched on, eyes fixated on the glassy surface yet you seemed detached as if you weren’t in the same world in the moment. He gave himself the privilege of staring at you for a little while, and if someone else was there to witness his gawking, they would definitely say he resembled a love-smitten idiot. Maybe that was what he really was.

Stepping closer, he finally broke the silence, and as calm as ever, you didn’t even flinch, accustomed to his deep voice after days of hearing pretty much nothing but it.

“Why did you stay behind?”

Averting your eyes from the winter scenery beyond the glass, you placed your attention back on him, a small smile finding itself on your face. A shrug was all you could answer with.

“What’s your excuse?”

Earlier today you saw his sister boarding Hogwarts Express but Namjoon had been nowhere to be seen.

“I sprained my ankle during Quidditch practice. Madam Pomfrey said it’s better I stay here,”

You almost snorted. If there was something that would never change about the tall boy it would be his clumsiness.

“I swear to God, Namjoon, you are the most uncoordinated person I’ve ever met,”

“Well, you’re stuck with the most uncoordinated person for the rest of Christmas break, so I suggest you make the most out of it,”

Little did you know Madam Pomfrey was now assured the Gryffindor had masochistic tendencies when he full-out refused her offer to cast a spell to speed up the healing process.

And suddenly, the idea of Christmas didn’t sound so gloomy anymore.

 ...

_The wonderful flicker of the fire flame reflected gleefully in your eyes, gaze settled on the fireplace situated pleasantly just a couple of feet away. The heat it emanated washed over your skin in warm waves, making you snuggle even deeper in the rusty red knitted sweater you were wearing, seeking the delicious feeling._

_The air, aside from the delightful warmth, was also filled with a nice buzzing chatter and the now familiar aroma of butterbeer._

_“How do you even drink that thing, Joon,” you asked, looking with disgust at the beverage occupying his hand. “I don’t get the hype – it tastes odd to me.”_

_Pausing mid-sip, he gave you a look over the rim of his mug, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Gulping down, he chuckled lightly at the expression of distaste you made:_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Well, for starters,” you began, “it’s barely sold here. Meaning the chug you just had is probably half your age and tastes like dust. And who even drinks an ice-cold drink in the middle of winter?”_

_“They serve it hot in tankards too, you know?”_

_“Don’t wanna hear about it,” you scrunched your nose in disgust and shook your head in dismay but even so, a small laugh bubbled in your throat at how he insisted on defending his strange tastes._

_You were about to throw another remark, just to humour yourself, when he leant in, pulling your face closer to his, and your rant was cut short when his plush lips landed softly on yours in a slow kiss. For a moment your mouth stilled in surprise at Namjoon’s sudden bout of affection, but in a second you were reciprocating the kiss, lips moving languidly against his own. You were tucked safely away in a hidden corner at The Three Broomsticks, away from any curious eyes, so the boy had no qualms in taking it a step further, slipping his tongue in between your parted lips. He tasted sweet, like sugar and butter but with a hint of amber, and the sweetness mixed with the slight bitterness in such a succulent way had you leaning in to get more of the taste. Cupping his cheek, you opened your mouth a bit further, letting his tongue graze over yours and tangle together as you continued kissing him feverishly, chasing the softness of his full lips and the tingles they brought to your stomach every time you got the chance to feel them, no matter where on your body._

_But he pulled away a bit too quickly for your liking, licking his lower lip with a ghost of a smirk before speaking up, his voice a bit breathless and an octave lower, tainted with lust._

_“That would be two sickles.”_

_Needless to say, your drinks were quickly abandoned as you left the pub in a hurry, barely getting to the inn you had rented a room at before you were both all over each other._

_..._

Dinner was unusually quiet but you wouldn’t say it was in an unpleasant way; actually, it was far from that. Considering the sparse student body present in the school building during the holiday times, the dining hall was set up significantly different. Abandoned were the big tables usually lined with numerous of your classmates. Instead, a vast oak table was situated in the middle, covered by a pristine white tablecloth, upon which were placed no more than twenty sets of beautifully ornamented plates along with the according utensils and napkins. The teachers’ table was also vacant, as the teachers had decided to mingle up with the few students present.

So that’s how you found yourself with Namjoon to your right and another prefect girl from Hufflepuff to your left, as Dumbledore gave a small speech of gratitude before settling down. With a flick of his wand, each plate was instantly filled with freshly cooked food, some of which still steaming. The delicious smell immediately wafted into the air along with the vapour, inviting you to just bite right in. And so, you did.

Dinnertime was spent pleasantly, the quiet clatter of forks and knives against the porcelain of the tableware, the low chatter and humming, and the occasional ‘pass me the salt’ all acting as a welcomed white noise to serve the silence and mend it into something at least a little bit reminiscent of the holiday mood.

Namjoon was quiet, immersed in enjoying the wonderfully cooked food and you urged yourself to do so as well.

“So,” McGonagall’s sharp voice cut through, stalling the low mumbling chatter between students and teachers alike. “We, the headmasters of all four houses have all _willingly_ ,” you couldn’t miss the way her pointed gaze flickered over to where Snape was seated, “came to the decision to let the prefects present go off duty during the time span of the holidays, due to the low number of present students, as it was expected. With that said, from now on until the end of Christmas break you are to be treated as regular students, meaning you aren’t held responsible for any potential rule-breaking occurring that isn’t directly associated with you.”

You threw a cautious look at Namjoon, who was patting his mouth down with the end of his napkin, looking equally as flabbergasted as you.

“However,” she continued sternly, "it’s to be kept in mind that all students are still held at fault for their own misbehaving of any sort, and would be punished accordingly by us, the teachers, first hand. With that, I believe dinner is now over. You are dismissed.”

With dinner ending on a colder note, you quickly stood up and excused yourself, leaving the dining hall in a slight hurry.

Just as you exited through the doors, a loud crash could be heard from the floors above, followed by a diabolic guffaw that could not be mistaken as anyone’s but Peeves’.

Using your bewilderment to quickly catch up to your side, Namjoon grabbed your hand and guided you gently away.

“Come on. I have to make the most out of this before it’s over,” he had said, chuckling lightly as he pulled you after him.

_..._

_The warmth engulfed the silent room, lights dimmed low to the point the only things you could make out in the dark were the smooth outlines of his face and the wrinkles of the cotton bedsheets your tangled bodies were wrapped in. His golden skin glistened in the scant light, his eyes barely open, the dark brown of his irises hidden underneath hooded lids, and his face relaxed as he let himself bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking._

_Allowing yourself a moment, with your head upon his bare chest, you closed your eyes shut and focused on the feeling of his heated skin, the rise and fall of his chest with each inhale and exhale of his. The rapid beating of his heart slowed to a steady rhythm, and the quiet thumping aside from bringing a smile of contentment to your face almost lulled your spent body to sleep._

_“Babe,”_

_A quiet hum was your only answer._

_Taking your hand from where it laid atop of his chest, he slipped his long fingers in between yours, lacing your hands together in a tight seal before he brought them to his lips to kiss the back of yours._

_“It’s past midnight,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Merry Christmas.”_

_The small gesture had you opening your eyes once again, and you tilted your head upwards to meet his stare._

_“You can be such a grease ball sometimes,” you chuckled with a tired smile._

_Pulling yourself up with little care as to the bedsheets that fell from covering your form to pool at your lap, you placed a lazy kiss on his cheek with a whisper of ‘Merry Christmas’. Then, you fell back down on the bed and took your respectful place with your head on his right shoulder but not before seeing his dimpled smile appear just where your lips have pecked._

_Seconds later, the familiar feeling of his arms wrapping around your midsection tugged you closer to his form, skin to skin, and in that moment, you swore you couldn’t have been any happier._

_..._

Wandering around the school was an adventure you hadn’t taken upon in a long time. The vast dark halls, lined with animate portraits, antique suits of armours and floor to ceiling windows, formed an intricate web of corridors and paths that lead to numerous wide and narrow staircases or dead ends. It was like a map littered with many doors waiting to be opened and rooms to be found out, hiding secrets that enchanted many students and brought them to be scolded by prefects who found out.

Teachers would say Namjoon abused his newfound freedom but he couldn’t care less at the moment, for you were once again by his side, and it all reminded him of past times that held a uncountable amount of fond memories he would do anything to revive, to live through them one more time. It was after hours already as he led you through a set of hallways and locked doors. Lights n longer lit up your surroundings and in the dimmed hall and heated atmosphere his only wish was to pull you against his chest or press you against the cold marble walls and kiss you until sunrise, just like the old times. This year was the last one the boy had left until graduation and he was set on making the most of it, to savor the best of memories of you before the looming future of adulthood whisked him far, far away and unfortunately made him leave you behind. He needed to gather his courage and do something or you would undoubtedly and unfortunately slip out of reach, just like how sand slips out of a closed fist.

You’ve always wondered why he was placed in Gryffindor despite his cunning wits and brilliant intelligence and the sole reason was expressed in what the Sorting Hat had said once it found itself on his head 7 years ago.

_..._

_As he sat down on the small chair, heart beating erratically and breath hitched, he felt his vision go black, and at first he thought he suddenly went blind but then he heard the scratchy voice of the old had that covered nearly his whole face._

_“Hmm, you do seem to have an incredible intellect, wisdom and crave for learning," It's voice filled his blanked mind and all he could do was blink and gulp down his nervousness._

_'W_ _hat you truly wish for however is to be fearless and possess the courage to accomplish your dreams and boy, would you need that!" the hat chuckled knowingly._

_The young lost boy that his was back then had no clue as to what that meant, of course, but he nodded in agreement and the hat simply continued:_

_"Its' f_ _or the best to put you in, and believe me when I say it,” the hat commented before its voice raised significantly with a shout that made the red and gold donning erupt into cheers, “Gryffindor!”_

 ...

At some point during the sleepless midnight wanders of the two of you, you found yourself before a door that persistently stood locked, giving your curious selves no choice but to put it under a charm. Taking out his wand, the Gryffindor pointed it at the heavy metal lock and with the spell of _Alohomora_ the rusty lock gave out a satisfying click, leaving the door open and what laid behind it vulnerable to your seeking eyes.

Once inside, the two of you found yourselves in what you believed were remnants of an old classroom. No source of light was present except the moonlight pouring in from the drawn curtains, shining upon what appeared to be an antique ornate mirror, set in the far back of the dusty classroom. It was rectangular, full body silver mirror, perched against the wall, with an intricate writing engraved in an arch above its frame.

A look bewilderment was the only thing you shared before you hesitantly approached the grand mirror and the appearance of your reflection emerged upon the glassy surface with Namjoon’s form closely behind. You blinked slowly, staring at the identical girl looking back at you from the mirror. Your gaze caught on the face of the boy in the back and the way his face dimpled as a warm smile stretched his lips. His reflection in the mirror came closer to you and placed his palm on your shoulder as his dark eyes gazed with unspoken endearment at the girl before him. Your heart picked up its rate as you struggled to take shallow breaths. You were about to question his actions until you realised that strangely enough, you felt no actual hand on your left shoulder; the heaviness of his palm was definitely not present, neither did his presence feel remotely close to you in the moment. Turning around slowly, your eyes doubled in size when you saw that said boy was standing more than a few feet across from you, giving you a questioning look with a raise of his right eyebrow.

Whipping around to once again confirm that your eyes are, in fact, not playing a trick on you, you once again come face to face with your bewildered self, reflected in the mirror, along with Namjoon smiling down at you, but this time around you came to notice that a small boy, no more than five years at age, was peeking behind your reflection’s dark robe with coy eyes that greatly remind you of your own. In fact, the boy awfully resembles Namjoon, with his scrawny figure, button nose and round cheeks, and seemed to bear the same eye and hair colour as you.

A feeling of dizziness washed over you, almost making you double over but you caught yourself before you collapsed on the cold, dusty floor, and tore your gaze away from the bewildering sight the mirror presented.

Your ears caught onto the sound of Namjoon’s soft approaching steps echoing in the thick silence that enveloped the room and you looked back at his actual self however his eyes weren’t focused on you, but rather on the words engraved above the ornate arch of the mirror’s frame.

“It’s definitely not Latin, and it doesn’t look like Nordic either,” he mused thoughtfully as his eyes squinted in pensiveness and his brows furrowed, “and by the engravements and décor it looks like it’s no more than a hundred years old – probably from the end of the 19th century.”

_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_

“The word ‘erised’ does ring a bell, though…” he trailed off as his eyebrows scrunched even further until wrinkles formed on his forehead, and that’s when his eyes lit up in recognition and remembrance. “Mirror of erised! I’ve read about it somewhere…”

He stepped closer and looked you straight in the eyes for a second before he returned his attention back to the antiquity before you.

“You see, the words here, if read backwards, spell... _I show not your face but your heart’s desire_!” he explained, pointing at the engraved cursive letters.

Your throat felt completely dry when you tried to utter at least one coherent syllable, so you just swallowed hard and looked down.

“When you looked… what did you see?”

Your eyes once again flew wide open and only a meek stutter fell from your lips.

As if he finally caught on the level of personal intimacy his question invaded, Namjoon shook his head and apologised profusely.

“Merlin’s beard, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked-“

“I-It’s okay,” you assured. “I saw my… family.”

It wasn’t an actual lie, to begin with, it was your family of a sort.

“Oh…” the boy averted his eyes, stepping closer to the mirror himself. His shoulders were visibly tense as he stared into the glassy surface, but it was only natural. It was only natural to feel nervous before the opportunity to see your deepest desires, for your most vulnerable yearnings on nearly unconscious levels to be visualised just before your eyes.

But in a second his nervousness dissipated. Whatever he had encountered beyond the silver coated glass must have pleased him for a gentle smile that reminded you of the one he donned in your reflection graced his features. However, something similar to melancholy was there to be seen in his eyes as well. The soft furrow of his eyebrows despite the smile on his lips gave it all away.

Tearing your eyes from his expression that was simply painful to look at, you collected enough courage to face your own desires, your own demons in the reflection as you stood next to the boy’s tall frame. Despite the enchanted object being the literal exact opposite of a boggart, it brought no better emotions, not any happiness or hope for nicer times. The both of you stood there, no words uttered, no words needed, just pure silence engulfing the unspoken, coating you in sombre gloom.

You were _there_ , smiling, with arms wrapped around his, or more specifically, his reflection’s neck as you hugged him from behind, eyes peeking over his shoulder to look at him with a tenderness to your face that he wished to be able to envision forever.

When he looked down at the actual you, next to him with eyes focused ahead at the damn mirror, he felt his chest tighten, constrict, leaving him almost gasping, with not breath to breathe in. So instead, he focused his eyes back where he saw a picture better, across from him in the window of the forsaken mirror where you once again stood, a small bundle of blankets cradled against your chest, and you nodded back at him, smiling widely to reveal your pearly whites.

_God, this is not okay_ , Namjoon thought and putting in his greatest will, he broke away his gaze, looking down instead with a heavy heart. Mustering up his best smile possible, he urged you quietly.

“Let’s go,” he said. “It’s better not to stay here any longer; it will do no good.

Your only answer was a silent nod of your head, minds still cloudy and hazy.

And that night, that silent Christmas night, you left the old abandoned classroom, leaving behind the mirror and all secrets it held without knowing, without even daring to imagine that what you held dearest to your heart and had unendingly hoped to obtain could be reached with nothing more than each other at your sides. That what the other saw in the godforsaken mirror, was who stood just next to them. Because for you both to reach completion would’ve sufficed to simply become one, a soulful bond that was your deepest, yet most silent yearning.


End file.
